


Wish You Were Here

by Raufnir



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Death, Grief, I'm Sorry, Loss, M/M, Poor Prompto, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 02:42:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13401735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raufnir/pseuds/Raufnir
Summary: Prompto, Ignis, and Gladio return to Galdin after the memorial service in Insomnia, five years after Noct's death. Prompto's grief resurfaces and he heads to the beach for some time alone to think of Noctis. And then... then something unexpected happens.





	Wish You Were Here

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve never written a song fic before, but a Florence + the Machine song came on shuffle this morning, and I was just struck by a sad Prompto x Noctis thought. Then I heard Wish That You Were Here, by the same artist, and decided to make it centred around the lyrics of this song because it’s even more painful. I thought how sad it is, and how closely it would fit Prompto pining for Noctis after his death. Brace yourself for sadness, for hurt, grief, and a sweet little ending because I can’t cope with too much sad. I don’t quote the whole song here, but the words are in italics. I wanted them to feel more like Prompto’s thoughts or feelings than lyrics, but we’ll see. Originally posted on my Tumblr, but I figured I'd share it here too.

_I’ve tried to leave it all behind me  
But I woke up and there they were beside me…_

Prompto woke in the caravan at Galdin, late afternoon sunlight painting his otherwise pale face. Ten years of darkness had faded his freckles, but they were starting to come back now. The glow was warm and blindingly bright. He didn’t remember falling asleep. He still wore his uniform. They’d come straight from the memorial service in the city. All three of them. They’d taken the car and just driven.

Five years.

Five years since his Noctis was ripped from him.

Five years since they’d found him pinned to his father’s throne like some glorious butterfly on a display card. Prompto shivered at the remembrance of Ignis’ broken howl, at the sight of Gladio’s enormous body crashing to its knees on black marble, and all the while Prompto had just stared at him.

He still didn’t remember being led away. He hadn’t spoken for weeks afterwards.

Blinking, he forced his mind out of the past and pushed himself upright, wiping his face with his right hand. His left palm pressed down into something shiny, plastic, and flexible.

With a little smile that didn’t really touch his eyes, he looked down at it.

A young man stared back at him from the photograph, eyes soft and happy, lips parted and laughing, black hair blowing in a soft, Duscaean breeze. His hand shook as he picked it up. Prompto was surrounded by a scattering of photographs lying all around him, like autumn leaves, on the upholstery of the bench.

“Lemme see?”

Gladio’s deep, gruff voice startled him, and he blinked in surprise. “Made me jump,” he chuckled.

“Sorry, kid,” Gladio laughed from the bed opposite the bench where Prompto had crashed out earlier. “Didn’t mean to startle ya.”

The door of the caravan opened just as Gladio spoke, and Ignis felt his way inside, cautious now, since Prompto had left a bag out that morning and he’d tripped over it. “He’s not a kid any more, Gladio,” Ignis smiled fondly.

Gladio rose, grunting as he stretched out the tension in his spine, each vertebra cracking with a satisfying pop. “I know. Old habits and all that,” he said, looking around the familiar caravan for his phone.

“Yeah,” Prompto agreed. “I don’t mind though. It’s nice. I was actually just looking at this one,” he held it out to Gladio, who took it with a pained expression pinching his brows. Prompto looked over to where Ignis was just standing there, a patient kind of expectance on his face. “Ig, I was looking at all those photos I found back at Caem, of Noct and us, but I fell asleep.” He sighed, looking down at one of Noctis on the fishing dock. “They’re all from when we came here first time.”

“Ah,” was Ignis said. His voice was deep, mellow, but it carried a weight of immense grief, an open nerve hardly dulled with time.

“The one Gladio’s looking at now is of Noct standing on the dock here. I think he’d just caught his biggest fish yet, you know, broken his record.”

Ignis’ smile broadened.

It was nice to see the man smiling. Without the chunky eye-shield he usually wore, he looked softer, older. They all were, Prompto supposed, though he still had his smooth skin. Gladio had weathered a fair bit in the past fifteen years, his hair joining Ignis’ in the snowy department, but Prompto was somehow as blond as he’d ever been. Noct had jokingly called Gladio ‘old man’ when he’d come back, which Ignis had found particularly amusing for some reason. All that seemed a lifetime ago now.

Ignis sighed and spoke again. “He was always at his happiest when fishing.”

“Yeah,” Prompto said, barely holding back a little choke.

He remembered as well as the rest of them those mornings at Galdin: Gladio and he working together on endurance training on the sandy beach while Ignis prepared some breakfast and Noctis snoozed on, oblivious. They’d all have been up for hours before he stirred.

 _And I don’t believe it but I guess it’s true_  
_Some feelings, they can travel too_  
 _Oh there it is again, sitting on my chest_  
 _Makes it hard to catch my breath_  
 _I scramble for the light to change_  
 _You’re always on my mind…_

Suddenly the weight on his chest got too much and he stood up. “I’m… I’ll… yeah…” he croaked, pushing the door open and stumping out. He brushed past Ignis, his hands briefly touching Ignis’ arm, clenching for a heartbeat. He ripped his fingers away before he ended up clinging to him. If he did that, he might not let go. Ignis patted him once on the shoulder as he fled.

Sand ground and hissed softly beneath his boots as he made his way to the shore.

_You’re always on my mind…_

Waves kissed the hard sand at the tide line, and he flopped backwards into the warm, dry grains behind him, letting it swallow his fingers and hands as it shifted quietly beneath him. He took his jacket off and dumped it in the sand beside him, his grey, sleeveless top flapping in the breeze.

Birds wheeled overhead, and somewhere on the other side of the interminable pier that led to the restaurant, a child played in the water. He didn’t know how long he sat there. The water receded down the beach. His sky blue eyes just stared, replaying days and nights with Noctis. Breathless moments. Warm embraces. Tears. Laughter. Blood. Loss.  _Everything_. The wind picked up after a while, stippling the surface of the water until it seemed to match the goosebumps on Prompto’s skin.

_And I never minded being on my own_   
_Then something broke in me and I wanted to go home_   
_To be where you are_   
_But even closer to you, you seem so very far_

He drew his knees up to his chin and hugged himself tightly. Fifteen years since he’d lost Noctis first time, to the crystal, and five years since their last embrace. He’d never felt so empty. So alone. So lost. Never in his whole life. Not even deep in the torturous days spent at Zegnautus when he wasn’t sure what was real and what a trick. Never. He was empty and yet still so full of raw grief.

Tears began to roll down his freckled cheeks, and silent sobs wracked his body. Finally, forehead pressed down on his knees, he wailed. “Gods, I miss you so much,” he choked, tears hot as sulphuric acid spilling from eyes screwed shut. “I miss you so damned much, Noct. I can’t breathe.”

_And now I’m reaching out with every note I sing_   
_And I hope it gets to you on some pacific wind_   
_Wraps itself around you and whispers in your ear_   
_Tells you that I miss you and I wish that you were here_

The sun began to sink, the light changing fast towards golden, and then on to a more muted bronze, as though the sun itself were tarnishing in Prompto’s salt-stained sadness.

Twilight at Galdin was always a gorgeous time, but he couldn’t take the sight of it this time. The sky was too orange, like the colour of iron in a forge. The wind was cruel now that the sun had left, biting into his skin as though trying to coil around his bones. The sand scratched. His throat was raw from crying. He’d thought he’d been through all this. Thought his grief had evolved. Apparently not.

 _I wish that you were here_.

He thought about pushing himself up, getting to his feet, going back to the caravan. Ignis had promised that they’d eat in the newly-restored Mother of Pearl that night. He needed to shower and change. He needed to let go. He still had the others. Sure, they hadn’t been to him what Noct had, but still. They were his brothers, his best friends, the family he’d never really had. He owed them. He needed not to be a ragged mess, frayed at the edges and barely in one piece.

_There’ll be so much that I’ll have to let go_   
_You’re disappearing all the time_   
_But I still see you in the light_

Inhaling deeply, letting the salt air cleanse his swirling mind a little, he pulled himself to his feet and swayed a little as a head rush washed over him. Faint and woozy, he wondered what had brought it on. He didn’t normally feel odd if he stood up too quickly. He wasn’t tall enough for that. Perhaps it was the surging grief? His palms tingled and he felt…  _pulled_ , tugged, like someone was shouting his name, but he couldn’t quite hear it.

_And it’s beautiful but there’s that tug in the sight  
I must stop time travelling, you’re always on my mind_

He shook his head, attempting to dislodge the stars from his vision. His mouth was dry. Something was…  _there_ , that hadn’t been before.

_You’re always on my mind  
You’re always on my mind_

Something was there that had been missing for five years.

He glanced up at the distant caravan and saw Ignis bursting through the door, immediately followed by Gladio. He frowned, turning to watch them. And then it happened.

Ignis summoned his daggers to his hands.

Prompto stared, aghast, incredulous, as Ignis waved them around, and then banished them back into… into the  _armiger?_  A second later, Ignis turned to Gladio. They were too far away for Prompto to hear their words, and anyway he was rooted to the spot like he’d been turned to a pillar of stone.

Gladio summoned his massive greatsword, and Ignis recalled his daggers to his hands. And then Ignis appeared to faint.

One moment he was upright, and the next the daggers had vanished in a spray of blue sparks, and his knees had folded. Gladio let go of his sword, the weapon dissolving before it hit the ground, and caught Ignis with an indistinct yell.

Still Prompto couldn’t move.

He didn’t dare. He didn’t dare summon his own weapons.

He knew what it meant, but it couldn’t be true.

For them to have access to the armiger again, Noct had to be… had to be…

Alive.

_And then the sea swept in and left us all speechless_

Prompto heard soft, slow footsteps in the sand behind him.

Slowly he turned, eyes locked on the floor.

A pair of smart black shoes, slightly scuffed.

Smart black trousers, sullied by a little dirt, creased.

At the sight of the brass knee brace, Prompto let out an involuntary sob, his eyes still moving so slowly up the body before him.

A pale hand. A cloak flapping softly in the breeze.

And then.

_Speechless_

His face.

 _His_ face.

The cry that left Prompto’s lips was broken and it felt like all the world imploded on him. He fell forwards into the figure, into his arms, clutching at him, clinging to him, gasping dry, heaving sobs, his whole body trembling.

“Noct?” he whimpered. “Noct? Gods,  _Noct_?”

_I wish that you_


End file.
